


It Happens to Everyone

by Nienna



Category: Tales of Graces
Genre: Drabble Collection, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:57:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nienna/pseuds/Nienna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of Asbel/Richard drabbles based on semi-NSFW themes, and centered on the premise that something always goes wrong.<br/>Prompts:<br/>- Trying to play footsie with the other during a meeting;<br/>- Confessing a fetish;<br/>- Being drenched whilst wearing white;<br/>- Trying to turn the other on;<br/>- Leaping into the other’s arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Under the Table

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote these drabbles as part of (another) Tumblr writing game. As usual, they're very silly, so beware... and enjoy!

Being a lord had many downsides, but the long, boring meetings with other rulers was certainly one of the greatest. It wouldn’t be so bad if they simply sat down and resolved matters quickly, but with nobles, everything had to be delivered in long-winded, pompous speeches, filled with words whose meaning Asbel could only guess. It was often a struggle to remain awake through the whole ordeal.

Fortunately, the current meeting had quite a perk: Richard was in it.

It was far easier to stand Duke Fabre’s endless monologue about… Asbel was no longer sure what, when he could slip occasional glances at Richard. And, somehow, Richard always seemed to be looking back at him. Asbel wondered if he was paying any attention to Fabre’s speech, but Richard’s occasional - and insightful - remarks proved his diligence. Yes, his king was truly amazing.

Asbel had been trying to focus back on the meeting when something rubbing against his calf claimed his attention. At first, he wondered if a cat had slipped into the room - were there even cats in the castle? - but the rubbing moved to the back of his knees, almost as if teasing him. Immediately, he turned to Richard, and the playful smile on his lips explained everything. He was…!

Feeling his cheeks redden, Asbel stared back at Richard, trying to silently request him to stop. Not that he didn’t enjoy the caresses, but… he was already struggling to pay attention to Duke Fabre’s speech, and Richard’s foot on his leg didn’t help one bit. In reply, Richard’s smile widened, and he tilted his head slightly to one side, resting it on the back of his hand. His foot now brushed Asbel’s inner thigh.

Obviously his attempt at sending a message failed, or Richard simply chose to ignore it. Asbel considered glaring again, or closing his legs to shoo Richard’s foot away, but… well, to put it simply, he was enjoying it considerably more than Fabre’s dull lecture. Maybe enjoying it a bit _too_ much; he was in a meeting, after all. But hey, if the king himself was the one touching him, who was he to complain?

Richard’s foot descended to his calf, caressing the back of it slowly, only to climb again to his inner thigh. He rubbed it so softly it felt like butterfly touches, often moving dangerously close to Asbel’s groin. Asbel’s heart fluttered madly, and he had to bite his lip to make sure he wouldn’t let out any suspicious sound. Looking at Richard’s face only made it worse; he sported the most suggestive of smiles, as if promising what would happen later, when they were alone. It made Asbel’s cheeks burn.

Deciding he wanted to reciprocate, Asbel moved a foot towards Richard’s legs. Brushing it against Richard’s calf had no effect on him, however. For a moment, Asbel was confused, and then he remembered Richard’s boots. Of course he wouldn’t feel anything through them! Well, he’d have to go straight for Richard’s thighs, then.

He raised his leg further, feeling Richard’s knees part for him. The mental image gave Asbel a thrill. He considered trailing his way up from Richard’s knees, but his boots covered that, too, so it was better to touch his thigh first. His inner thigh, of course. And it would have to be close to his groin, since those boots went pretty high up.

Once he deemed himself ready, Asbel reached out with his foot.

And Richard _yelped_.

The entire room grew silent. Even Duke Fabre, who loved the sound of his own voice, stopped speaking. Every pair of eyes was on the king, who had just uttered the most undignified sound for no apparent reason.

And only then did Asbel realize he made a slight miscalculation. His foot wasn’t against Richard’s thigh. Instead, it pressed - quite strong - on Richard crotch.

Withdrawing it quickly, Asbel steadied himself, trying to appear innocent. Richard did the same, switching to such a controlled expression no one would believe he had been wide-eyed just moments before.

"Is there something wrong, Your Majesty?" Duke Fabre asked, with a tone a tad too dry for addressing his king.

With all the calm in the world, Richard turned to him, his lips curving into a reassuring smile. “Do forgive me for this interruption, but there is nothing to fret about. It seems a cat has slipped inside the room, and I was merely surprised when it suddenly jumped on my lap.”

"I see no cat," Fabre retorted, raising an eyebrow, and then quickly adding, "Your Majesty."

"Yes, it seems the feline has escaped and hidden somewhere," Richard replied in that same steady tone. "But we should not be interrupting our meeting to search for a pet, should we?"

"I suppose not," Fabre conceded, eyes narrowing. "I was unaware you had a fondness for cats, Your Majesty."

"Oh, my dear duke," Richard said, smiling brightly as his eyes flickered to Asbel. "You would be surprised at some of the things I have a fondness for."


	2. Revelations

"Y-You’re into _what_?”

As soon as he heard Asbel’s reply, Richard immediately regretted his decision. Wine always made him chatty, at least with his lover, but he should be able to hold his tongue! His revelation had _not_ been something suited for the early stages of their new relationship!

"I’m… I’m sorry, Asbel. Please pretend I never said anything."

"I-I can’t just _pretend_ after finding out… finding out you want to…!”

Richard all but gasped. “P-Please don’t say it out loud! It’s… embarrassing.”

"Okay. Okay, I won’t say it, but… Damn, Richard!"

"…I’m sorry…"

"I mean, wow. That’s pretty hardcore."

"…I’m sorry…"

"Really, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to do all of that to you!"

"…I’m sorry…"

"I’d never have thought you were so… kinky."

Richard’s apologies faded into a whimper, and he sagged into his chair. Would Asbel spend the rest of their lives reminding him of his shameful fetishes? He was starting to regret it as much as the Lambda incident! (Well, not really. He was just being a dramatic drunk.)

"Asbel, just… please don’t mention it anymore."

"Sorry," he replied, flashing an awkward smile. "It’s just so dirty, I can’t stop thinking about how you wanna be tied up and blindfolded and—"

_"Asbel!"_

"Sorry. I’ll stop now. Promise."

He really did seem to mean it, for silence fell over the room for the next following minutes. Richard fiddled with his empty glass, and whenever he looked at Asbel, he seemed to be deep in thought.

After a while, he spoke again. “Hey, Richard…”

"What is it?" he replied, narrowing his eyes. If Asbel brought up the subject again…!

"I… have a confession, too."

Richard blinked in surprise. “You do?”

"Y-Yeah." He cleared his throat. "I… I might I have an embarrassing kink, too."

He paused, looked deep into Richard’s wide eyes, and declared, “I think I wanna buy those handcuffs.”


	3. When It Rains

They were panting when they reached the doorstep, but running had been of no use. The rain had soaked them to the bone, ruining the white suits they had worn for Hubert and Pascal’s wedding. They had to have been white, at Pascal’s insistence, and they had no choice but to obey the bride’s wishes. Though they still couldn’t understand why she giggled so much when she suggested it.

The wedding had been at a pleasant mountain resort in Windor, and rooms had been booked for all the guests. Most were in the resort’s main building, but some were in separate, private cottages. Asbel and Richard had been placed in the same room - because they were best friends, Pascal claimed - and, for some reason, it was a cottage room.

And now, they stood, dripping wet in front of their little personal cottage, while Asbel fumbled with the keys.

"Man, I feel bad for Pascal," he muttered as he opened the door, "She was so excited about this outdoors wedding, but it was cut short by the rain."

"I’m sure she did not mind, Asbel," Richard replied, following his friend inside, "She was laughing and jumping in the rain, while we ran for shelter. Poor Hubert even tripped as he chased after her."

"She drank too much of those banana cocktails! But yeah, I guess she had more than enough fun." Pausing, Asbel looked around. "Where are the eleth lamps?"

"Built in the ceiling, I’d wager. This is a modern resort. There should be a switch somewhere… ah! Here it is." With a click, the room suddenly went bright, blinding them momentarily.

Once Asbel’s sight returned to normal, he took a look around. “Wow. Wow! This is pretty amazing. I’m sure you won’t miss the castle in this room, Ri—”

His words faded into silence, and Asbel stared, open-mouthed, at Richard. A _drenched_ Richard. Dressed all in thin, white fabric. Fabric that clung to his skin, revealing… _absolutely_ _everything_.

"What were you saying, Asbel? You suddenly went si—"

Richard’s own eyes widened as he took in Asbel’s figure, _very_ clearly defined under his wet clothing. His face reddened to crimson, yet he could not pull his eyes away.

And neither could Asbel.

For minutes, they both stood, dumbstruck, doing nothing but blatantly staring at each other. They took in every single detail in each other’s bodies, until they finally realized a certain… _growing_ problem, and the situation finally dawned on them.

They both jumped at once, turning away and stammering apologies.

"I-I-I’m s-so sorry, Richard! Y-You just have a really incredible body, and— W-Wait, that’s not what I—"

"F-Forgive me, Asbel, I simply found myself enthralled by your perfect figure— Ah, I didn’t mean to be so forward, I just—"

_"…You what?"_

They exclaimed the latter in unison, turning around once more, though this time they both tried not to stare (and failed, for the most part). They certainly had a lot of explaining to do.

But thankfully, they had the rest of the night, a private room, and a double bed.


	4. The Apron Incident

It was a bad idea. A _terrible_ idea. Of course, any idea suggested by Malik would be terrible. And really, an _apron?_ Richard had never even cooked in his life! Of course, he did look good in frills, though he was not so sure about the color pink. Pink didn’t match his hair. Besides, he had no idea how Asbel felt about pink. He should’ve gone with green or blue, but Malik had insisted—

The sound of approaching footsteps made him freeze. Asbel would walk in at any moment! Walk in, and find Richard fully naked, except for a pink, frilly apron. Clutching the fabric to his exposed skin, Richard once more regretted that ludicrous plan. What _had_ he been thinking? What if Asbel burst out laughing? He would _kill_ Malik!

The door opened, and Richard almost whimpered as he fell back against the pillows, trying to keep himself from covering his face in embarrassment. He did _not_ manage to keep his eyes open, though. He must be looking pathetic, sprawled over the bed, wearing an apron over his bare skin. And with his eyes closed! He was waiting for Asbel to say something before he opened them, but the silence dragged on. His cheeks were burning crimson.

After what seemed an eternity, a voice finally came from the door.

"Y-Your Majesty…?"

 _Not_ Asbel’s voice.

Richard’s eyes shot open, and he found himself staring at an open-mouthed, wide-eyed servant.

 _"Leave!"_ he blasted, trying to pull the silk blankets over his body, and failing given that he was lying _over_ them. He had been clear he was not to be disturbed! Heavens, what if the man gossiped? _"I saw the king naked, wearing nothing but an apron!"_ Richard turned over, burying his face in the pillows. He wanted to scream!

In his agony, Richard missed the new set of footsteps approaching his room. He could not, however, fail to hear the surprised gasp that soon followed.

"R-Richard…?"

Raising his face from the pillows, Richard turned. This time, it was really Asbel, standing by the door. And Richard had been lying on his stomach, which meant… Asbel had been greeted by his bare bottom.

He all but jumped to sit on the bed, feeling his face heating again. “A-Asbel!” All that planning, ruined!

"H-Hey. I’m here. You look… comfortable," Asbel stuttered, scratching his cheek. A very red cheek. He never looked away, though.

"I… I was waiting for you," Richard muttered in reply.

"Oh. W-Well, I’m here now." He paused, glancing around. It was the first time his eyes moved away from Richard since he entered the room, and after a moment, they set on him again. "Um… Can I lock the door?"

Richard smiled. In the end, the plan had worked.


	5. Savior

It wasn’t that he was _afraid_ of spiders. They were small, and quite often harmless. But there was always the danger of that tiny, tiny spider possessing a terrible, deadly poison. And being poisoned terrified Richard most of all. See, it was important to note it wasn’t the spiders themselves! A king would never be afraid of spiders. But well…

Fine. Richard _was_ afraid of spiders, and very self-conscious about it. But, of all the embarrassing incidents with arachnids, there _had_ to be one involving Asbel.

They had taken a weekend off and traveled to a small cottage in the Windorian countryside, which meant they were spending a weekend doing paperwork somewhere other than their offices. It still helped them relax, though, so the change was more than welcome. To Richard’s delight, the place was also free of small crawling creatures.

Or so he thought.

Night fell, and Richard retired to the bathroom to wash himself, while Asbel finished the last of his work. He activated the water cryas in the tub, and proceeded to undress, neatly arranging every removed piece of clothing in a pile. Once he was bare, and the water warm, he stepped inside, and sighed in pleasure as the heat melted the tension from his muscles.

He took his time in the bath (mostly on his hair), and when he was almost done, there was knocking on the door.

"Hey, Richard, I wanna take a bath, too," Asbel said from the other side, "Are you gonna be in there for a while?"

"I’m coming out now, Asbel," he replied, stepping out of the tub and wrapping a thick towel around his wet skin. "Give me a few minutes, and you can— _EEEEEEEEEK!!”_

Startled and fearing for Richard’s safety, Asbel knocked the door open and rushed inside. However, before he could even see what caused Richard’s scream, a wet, naked king unceremoniously leaped on top of him. Asbel’s honed reflexes were quick enough, thankfully, and he caught Richard in his arms, princess style.

Richard clung to his neck, terrified. “P-Please kill it, Asbel!”

The former knight looked around, but failed to see any visible threat. “Kill what, Richard?”

"T-There was an enormous spider…!"

Asbel searched around, and finally, found a… slightly-bigger-than-average-yet-still-quite-tiny spider crawling from under Richard’s towel. With the king still in his arms, he moved forward and stepped on it.

"Done."

"Is it… dead…?" Richard muttered, his arms still around Asbel’s neck.

"It’s squished under the sole of my boot, do you want to see?"

"N-No! I believe you," he all but whimpered, burying his face in Asbel’s hair.

"Um… do you want me to put you down here, or carry you to your bed? You’re really shaken, Richard."

"T-To my bed. Please."

"Okay. Wanna borrow my towel?" Asbel had the feeling Richard wouldn’t want to use his own after the little… incident.

Richard nodded weakly in reply, huddling closer to Asbel’s chest (and soaking his clothes further). Moments later, he was neatly wrapped in Asbel’s towel, sitting quietly on his bed.

"I’m sorry for… causing such a scene, Asbel."

"It’s fine, Richard," Asbel gently replied. Then, placing a kiss on Richard forehead, he added, "I’ll always kill the spider for you."


	6. Unexpected Request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this drabble at around the same time as the others, but ended up not publishing it with the rest of the collection since I had planned on going for a T rating. However, since I ended up bumping the rating to M, I think it's safe to add this chapter. Be aware that it's more explicit than the previous ones, though!

"I’m… I’m not sure I can do it, Richard."

"Asbel, please, don’t be hesitant. I would rather enjoy it, if you could oblige me."

Asbel bit his lip, his gaze falling. “I _want_ to make you feel good, but… what if I accidentally put too much force? I mean, it’s gonna be pretty hard to control myself given the… the timing you asked for.”

Richard sighed. Asbel’s concern for his well-being was touching, but sometimes, it went overboard. “I’m not made of glass, Asbel. Besides, it’s a rather… cushioned part of my body. I will be able to take it, no matter how much force you put into it.”

"But it could _hurt!”_

"That… that wouldn’t be a problem," he replied, blushing slightly, "Sometimes, a little pain can be… thrilling."

Asbel’s eyes widened. “R-Richard!”

"Of course, you don’t need to hit me hard enough to inflict pain," he amended quickly, "I’m simply looking forward to the action itself."

It was Asbel’s turn to sigh. “Okay. I will… I will try to do it. I’m gonna…” - his voice faded to a murmur - “slap your ass when you’re about to come.”

Despite Asbel’s crude wording, Richard couldn’t hold back a smile. He was eager for night to fall.

* * *

"A-Asbel, I’m almost there," Richard gasped after a particularly loud moan.

Asbel froze in the middle of a thrust. “…Should I slap you now, then?”

"Whenever you want, just— _Don’t stop._ ”

"Oh! Sorry." He resumed moving, though at a slightly slower pace. "Is now a good time for the slapping?"

"Faster, please…"

Asbel obeyed, increasing the pace back to what it had been before. “So, when should I do it?”

Richard groaned. "Any time, Asbel! Don’t ask me first."

"Sorry! Are you ready now?"

"Y-Yes, but you have to surprise me!"

He nodded, struggling to keep the pace. “Okay, I will… soon…”

"Asbel, just… stop talking."

He nodded again, and focused on the thrusting. He would slap Richard’s bottom. Soon. Very soon. Anytime now…

"…I can’t do it, Richard."

Richard sighed. “It’s fine, Asbel. I don’t think I would’ve been able to finish, anyhow.”

Asbel slowed to a stop. “I’m… I’m probably not getting there, either.”

"Cuddling?" Richard asked softly, as Asbel lay down next to him.

"…Sounds perfect."


End file.
